


Unravel Me

by xAussieGirlx



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:40:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 16,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26794513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xAussieGirlx/pseuds/xAussieGirlx
Summary: The female reader is a notorious loner with a dark and highly secretive past. Who better to unravel the tangled web than the Black Widow herself?
Relationships: Natasha Romanoff/Female Reader, Natasha Romanov (Marvel)/Reader
Comments: 74
Kudos: 351





	1. Chapter 1

Your gaze sweeps around the dining room in the Triskelion. The air turns thick as the room goes from murmurs and scraping cutlery to silence then hushed whispers. You were used to it by now, the hard black mask covering the lower half of your face and dark green tactical suit instead of the usual navy blue always drew attention. 'Rookies' you thought to yourself as you continued your visual search. A shock of red hair catches your eye for a few moments. Green eyes stare back at you, you twitch an eyebrow in challenge. She holds your gaze until Agent Barton next to her says something and she looks away. You go back to your search, locating the dark skinned man quietly observing you, he raises his right eyebrow and you stride towards him.   
“That’s Seven,” Clint had said to Natasha to get her attention.  
“Agent Seven?” She asked, voice impassive.  
“No, just Seven,” Clint answered.  
She blinked back at him, expression blank and unreadable to most.  
“She’s been here longer than I have,” He continued with a shrug.

* * *

  
“Seven,” Fury says as you stop in front of his table and stand at ease. “Obviously the reports I received about you weren’t accurate,” he says looking up at you.  
You give a small nod in acknowledgement.  
“Where have you been all this time?” Fury asks, his tone low.  
You raise an eyebrow at him.  
He grins “Glad to see nothing has changed.” Fury has a sip of coffee “I want your report by…” his words cut off by ping from the tablet in front of him. “Efficient as always.” He says after glancing down at the screen. “Report to Deputy Director Hill. Dismissed.”  
You come to attention before turning on your heel and stride out of the room. You can feel the redhead's curious gaze on you as you do.

* * *

  
“I heard she’s the reason Director Fury is missing an eye,” a junior agent says to another as they run laps in the training room.  
“Who?” the other junior agent puffs.  
“You know who,” the first agent softly answers.  
“The Black Widow?”   
“She’ll hear you,” the agent says hushed, fear dripping in his voice.  
Natasha's ears prick to her codename as she continues to stretch near the sparring mats.   
“Sorry...” the agent puffs sheepishly to his running mate.  
“You will be later if she heard you,” he replies “And no it wasn’t her, she’s too new.”  
“Who then?” The agent asks, now gasping for breath.  
The first agent's eyes widen when they make direct eye contact with you and they stumble.  
“Seven...” the gasping agent says, also wide-eyed and turning pale.  
Natasha turns to see you standing silently near the sparring mats. Her eyebrow twitches subtly.  
“Agent Romanoff,” Agent Hill's voice comes from behind you, “As much fun as it is watching you beat Barton repeatedly...” She stops next to you.  
Clint lets out a chuckle as he moves toward the sparring ring.   
“Seven is going to be your opponent today,” Maria Hill finishes her sentence.  
You and the Black Widow stoically stare at each other.  
The junior agents have been stopped in their tracks since the deputy director entered the room.   
“Gather round children, it’s going to be a good show,” Clint jokes towards them, cutting through the heavy silence.  
You roll your shoulders and crack your neck with a series of audible pops. Turning to the brunette you make a hand signal then point towards Natasha.  
The slight bristle from the redhead doesn’t go unnoticed by you. She turns to Barton.  
“Seven is the strong silent type,” Clint answers.  
“That’s why I am here,” Maria says. You two had worked out a way to communicate with each other using a combination of military hand signals and various sign language gestures while working together in the field before she was promoted through the ranks. “Also to make sure you don’t kill each other,” she looks directly at you with a raised eyebrow.  
You shrug an indifferent shoulder before stepping on to the mats. You point to your mask as you look to the Deputy Director.  
“Don’t hit the mask Romanoff,” Maria says. “It’s made of Adamantium.”  
“Adamantium...?” A rookie agent repeats.   
“Like Wolverine,” says another before they’re elbowed sharply.  
Your eyes don’t leave the redhead.  
“Anything else Agent Hill?” Natasha asks the higher ranked agent. As your gazes remained locked.  
“Make sure you put on a proper demonstration for the rookies,” Agent Hill replies.  
You raise an eyebrow and Natasha does the same. You take a step towards her, she steps away.   
She pivots on the balls of her feet and in a flash she’s got a foothold on your waist. You raise an arm and get a hold of her thigh, before they can wrap around your head, throwing her off yourself. She lands a few feet away from you on her feet, reminding you of a cat.  
Natasha's hand darts out and grabs your right wrist, she attempts to punch you in the liver, but you block her fist with your left hand.  
“Come on Natasha,” Clint encourages.  
She cartwheels around your left arm, this time managing to lock her ankles around your neck. She manoeuvres herself onto your shoulders, her thighs now around your head.   
“Whoa...” one of the agents watching says.  
You glance up at her, feeling the tell-tale shift before she is planning to use her weight to throw you to the ground. Grabbing her legs as she starts to spin, you leap into the air, arching your back so her back is the first part of the two of you that’s going to hit the mat. You spin in her now loosened grip around your head so you land face down on top of her. Using your height advantage, you get your forearm across her throat, pinning her.  
“Did---did you see what happened...?” a junior agent asks to no one in particular.  
To them it happened in less than a few seconds. With your abilities most fights seem to you to happen in slow motion.  
Natasha wriggles under you, trying to get leverage now she has sucked in a breath.   
You hear a light thud, thud from Clint’s direction. The crack across your shoulders with the baton welded by the Black Widow makes you look over at him.  
“That’s for taking my good bow,” Clint says. Yeah okay maybe you deserved that.  
You roll off your opponent before she brings it down again, springing to your feet.   
You make the beckoning gesture after she jumps to her feet.  
Natasha smirks back at you. She spins the baton as she moves towards you.  
You block each quick attempted body hit with your forearms. Natasha kicks you in the ankle at the same time the baton is aimed at your head. You duck the headshot and flip on the spot. Landing a hard kick to her chest.  
She stumbles a step backwards, you kick behind her knee as you get her in a headlock from behind. She elbows you in the ribs and abdomen in quick succession. Your forearm increases pressure on her throat.  
The junior agents watching are all wide-eyed.  
Suddenly a blue light erupts from her wrist, a jolt of electricity is sent through your arm from a small disk. You hold on as long as you can, your muscles betray you and she slips from your grasp.  
She takes large steps away from you sucking in deep breaths as she watches you standing there twitching and eventually crushing the small disc that she had stuck to your arm between your fingers. You sign to Maria but remain looking at the other woman on the mats with you.  
“Seven says, Widow bites sting,” Maria speaks for you.  
Natasha smirks.   
The match only ends when Agent Hill is called away on urgent business. You extend a hand to Natasha.   
“Thanks for the workout,” she says as she shakes your hand. “We’ll have to do it again sometime.”  
You give a nod before walking out of the room.

* * *

  
“Why doesn’t she speak?” Natasha asks Clint when they’re alone.  
“I don’t know,” He replies with a shrug “As long as I have been here, she's worn a mask.”  
Natasha turns to him. “She is ex-military.”  
“No, that’s Agent Hill’s background.” Clint shakes his head. “Seven only uses those signals with her.”   
Natasha studies him for a moment “People underestimate how much you actually notice.”  
He smirks “Yep.”  
“Who else does Seven communicate with?” Natasha asks.  
“Director Fury, Agent May and sometimes Agent 13,” Clint says, he made sure to use correct names while Natasha was still learning the ropes at S.H.I.E.L.D.  
“Not Agent Coulson?” She asks.  
“No, I think she scares him,” he answers.  
“Was she on a mission?” Natasha asks.  
“She was, I don’t know exactly where, but reports were she’d been exterminated.” Clint pauses to think “12 months ago.”  
“Why wasn’t her name on the wall of valour?”  
“You didn’t hear this from me,” Clint says quietly. Natasha nods. “Seven doesn’t exist.”


	2. Chapter 2

You watch the ex-Russian assassin from your vantage point. ‘Elegant, efficient, silent and deadly.’ You think to yourself. You continue observing her work for a few more moments before making yourself known to her.  
She spins around, a knife pressed into your tactical suit between your fourth and fifth ribs. Your left hand had already wrapped around her wrist before the tip hit. She knows you let her get that far after you have sparred with her a few more times. You silently stare down at her.  
“Cat got your tongue?” She quips with a smirk.  
“Find whatever you were looking for?”   
There’s a tiny hint of her eyebrows furrowing that you wouldn’t have noticed if you were further apart.  
Your right hand slowly raises to reveal a small electronic device in it. You push the button again. “Find whatever you were looking for?” the voice repeats as the corners of your eyes reveal your own smirk.  
She pushes back from you and you let go of her wrist. “No, I didn’t.” She tries to sidestep you to exit your quarters.  
A noise from the back of your throat escapes before you can stop it.  
She stops and looks up at you.  
You point to your mask and raise an eyebrow in question.  
She looks to the door before back at you.  
You pull out the chair at your desk then sit on your bed. Raising an eyebrow at her as she is still standing near the door.   
She decides to take the offered chair and gracefully sits down.  
“What do you want to know?” You sign to her.  
Her eyebrow raises “Russian sign language?”  
You nod.  
“I’m rusty,” Natasha admits.  
You shrug and pull out another electronic device, quickly typing into it. “This better?”  
“Yes, thank you,” She says with a tight lipped smile.  
You patiently wait for her question. Watching the gears turn behind her green eyes.   
“Why the mask?” She asks.  
“Classified,” The device speaks for you. “Sorry.”  
“Worth a shot,” she gives a small smile.  
You give an amused shrug.  
A look crosses her features before she replaces the indifferent mask. “Are you responsible for Fury's eye?”  
You blink a few times before looking down to type into the device. “The good one?”  
She lets out a tiny chuckle.  
“As long as it stays between us.”   
“Of course.” Natasha nods.  
You start typing after she nods. “No, that wasn’t me.” You shake your head. “I think he started the rumour himself.” You add with a wink.  
She smiles slightly wider than before. “No agent in front of Seven,” she says as a statement more than a question.  
“Codename,” the device says for you.  
She raises an eyebrow.  
“Like Black Widow.” You shrug.  
“Barton is clueless,” she says more to herself than you.  
“He can be.” You nod in agreement.  
“Why did you tell me that?” Natasha asks, shifting in the seat.  
“No one has asked me directly before.” You shrug as the device speaks. “Listen to rumours instead.”  
She rolls her eyes at this. “Typical.”  
“Why S.H.I.E.L.D?” You ask her.  
“Classified,” Natasha says, “Sorry.”  
“Natalia Romanova, ex KGB assassin.” You look up before continuing to type.  
She stares into your eyes for a long moment “Dresden Germany...”  
You nod.   
“You shot at me.” She kicks against your boot lightly.  
“I missed.” Your foot taps hers back.  
“On purpose.”  
“Maybe.”  
“You hit the KGB agent pursuing me,” Natasha says, then goes quiet before looking down at her lap. “Thank you.”  
“Natasha?” Clint's head pops through your door. “She should be...” the words die on the tip of his tongue when he sees you sitting on your bed. He looks to the former assassin then back to you. “Hey Seven...” He swallows.  
You give a small nod.  
“Yes Barton?” Natasha asks as if this situation is a regular occurrence.  
“Umm... Agent Colson wants to see us,” Clint says trying to cover his interruption.  
She looks to you then back to him “Give me a second.”  
“Sure thing.” His head disappears back out the door.  
“Good luck on your first S.H.I.E.L.D. mission.” The corners of your eyes give away a small smile.  
Natasha's head tilts slightly.  
“High level clearance.” You shrug.  
“I’ll see you when I get back,” Natasha says standing up.  
You give a nod.  
“Some lookout you are,” Natasha says to Clint when she gets outside your room.  
“She went out and didn’t go back in,” Clint defends.  
She raises an eyebrow at him.  
“Well I didn’t see her and I was watching the door.” He shrugs. “Did you see what’s under her mask?”  
Natasha rolls her eyes.

* * *

  
“I heard the rumours but didn’t believe it until I saw it for myself,” Melinda May says from behind you.  
You finish your sequence of moves on the martial arts training dummy and turn around. “I missed you too,” you sign.  
“You still fit for duty?” Agent May teases.  
You turn and take a few steps before running up the wall and doing a backflip, landing on your feet.  
“Didn’t answer my question,” May says crossing her arms across her chest.  
“When they find a mission for me, I will be going,” you sign.  
She chuckles. “You haven’t changed.”  
“You want to spar?” You ask, your eyes showing your smirk.  
“Tomorrow morning, usual time, you’re on.” She smirks.  
You nod. “Have you met the Black Widow yet?” you ask before wiping your brow.  
“No, I’ve been busy,” Agent May replies.  
“I think you would get along,” You sign.  
May stares at you “Did you get that shiny bell of yours rung too hard?”  
You flip her off.  
She smirks.  
“Don’t go pranking her,” you sign a warning “You will regret it. If she doesn’t kill you.” The reason you like and respect Melinda is she had the ovaries to attempt pulling a prank on you when she was fresh out of the Academy of Operations. You got her back by feigning the aircraft you were co-piloting had engine failure. She liked that you were quiet and managed to get her hook, line and sinker.  
“I don’t have a death wish.” Agent May shakes her head.  
“I’ll invite her to join us when she returns from her mission,” you sign.  
Melinda gives a nod. “See you tomorrow morning.”  
You wave to her before going back to your workout.

* * *

  
“You know you can relax now the mission is done,” Clint says as he and Natasha sit in the back of the helicopter.  
Natasha looks up from the tablet in her hands.  
“I don’t write the report until someone chases me for it.” He shrugs and leans back in his seat.  
“I have already finished and sent it,” Natasha says before looking back at the tablet.  
Clint leans forward “Then what are you doing?”  
“It’s recreational,” she replies coolly.  
“Glad to hear you found a hobby,” Clint says with a lopsided smile. He leans back and closes his eyes.  
Natasha glances up at him then back to the screen.


	3. Chapter 3

“Hey,” Natasha says as she approaches you on the roof of the Triskelion.   
You place the book you were reading down and give a nod, then realise you don’t have any electronic devices with you. You make a pen gesture.  
“No need,” she signs in Russian sign language, smiling when she sees your eyes widen slightly. “I had time to brush up while on the mission,” she says taking the seat next to you.  
You nod. “How did it go?” You sign.  
“Reconnaissance mostly,” Natasha says “We got what was asked.” She shrugs.  
“Successful is good,” you sign.  
She nods. “What are you reading?”  
You hand her the book.   
“Astrophysics?” She looks up at you after reading the front cover.  
You shrug.  
“Clint says I need to find a hobby,” she says opening the book.  
“Do you have anything in mind?” you sign when she looks at you.  
“I don’t want to watch another romantic comedy movie,” she says scanning the page.  
“He has bad taste?” you ask curious.  
“He is trying to help me but yes. Terrible,” she says with a smirk. “What do you watch?”  
“Me?” You are taken aback by her asking.  
“Yes, can’t be as bad as cheesy romantic comedies,” Natasha says handing the book back.  
You blink a few times “I don’t.”  
“Maybe we can figure out something to watch together?” A perfectly sculpted eyebrow arches.  
You nod. “Where?”  
“Unlike you, I have a TV in my quarters,” she says with a shrug.  
You nod slowly. It’s been a long time since someone invited you to join them outside of the training room or the firing range. Most people avoid you, but the Black Widow isn’t most people. “Want to spar again?”  
“Sure, I like a challenge.” She smirks. “I am going to go hit the gym while it’s not busy,” she says going to stand.  
Your hand reaches out and touches her forearm gently. “Thank you,” you sign.  
Natasha gives you a small smile before leaving you alone with your thoughts.

* * *

  
“Why are you all blocking the corridor and not training?” Agent Hill questions the group of agents standing outside the training room.  
They all look sheepishly at each other then back to her.  
“Well?” Maria raises an eyebrow.  
“Because they are in there,” someone finally answers her.  
Maria moves to look in the glass window on the door.  
You swing a Kendo shanai as you move towards Natasha. Natasha spins tonfa batons by the handles as she glances between you and Melinda. Melinda expertly twirls a bō staff, lunging first at you then Natasha. The three of you had decided to spar with martial arts weapons. Melinda found it amusing she had more black belts than the Black Widow. Natasha enjoyed the challenge of a highly skilled opponent. You wanted to keep your skills sharp and the best way to do that was to face the best.  
Maria’s lips twitch into a hint of a smirk before she replaces it with her hard-ass mask and turns to face the agents. She pushes the door open. “This isn’t the academy, you are all agents, get in there and train or you’ll be on filling duty in the basement for the foreseeable future,” she says loud enough you heard her clearly.  
The four of you exchange glances as the agents file into the room. Melinda is the first to speak. “You.” She points to an agent with the staff, “Let’s dance.”  
An agent that smiled at Melinda’s words gets pointed to by Natasha “You, pick something from the rack.” She turns and points to the agent next to them “You’re next.”  
You slowly stalk towards the group. All but one come to attention automatically. You move down the line until you get to the agent, a tall and broad man, wearing a stupid cocky smirk. You rake your gaze over him like a hungry wolf spying their next meal. His Adam’s apple bobs when you flip the shanai in the air, grabbing the tip, so the handle faces him.   
“Don’t---don’t we need a helmet for Kendo?” he asks taking it from you.  
You nod towards the equipment cupboard. When he doesn’t move, you click your fingers once and point to the cupboard.   
“Don’t make her ask you a third time,” Agent May warns as she spars.   
He scurries towards the cupboard.  
The rest of the agents hurriedly move towards the gym equipment when you turn around.

* * *

  
You hold the door open on the black SUV waiting for the Director and Deputy Director. It has been a few months since you had returned from 'the dead' as Fury put it, after years of active service you have been reduced to a chauffeur. May and Romanoff have been busy with almost back-to-back missions so your physical training has been lacking in the sparring department. Underneath your skin itches to be doing something, anything.  
“Seven,” Fury greets as he gets to the door.  
You nod in acknowledgement.  
“P.E.G.A.S.U.S. Seven,” Agent Hill says softly.  
You nod before closing the door once she is in the vehicle. Once you are in the traffic you notice a dark vehicle following you. Pressing a button on the steering wheel that turns a small screen on in the back of the SVU so they can see what you can, you begin to take an evasive route.  
“Foreign?” Maria asks looking at the screen.  
“Worse, the damn World Security Council,” Fury curses. “Do not engage.”  
You nod as you pull down a narrow laneway, taking a sharp left on exit.   
Fury’s phone begins ringing “Councilman Pierce,” he answers it.  
“Fury, we have a situation,” Alexander Pierce's voice echoes in the vehicle.  
You make another turn as you try to avoid a traffic jam.  
“What situation?” Fury asks bluntly.  
“We believe some agents have gone rogue in an attempt to delay... The project.”  
“Those agents driving a W.S.C. vehicle?” Fury asks.  
You signal to Maria when you notice two motorcycles approaching quickly.  
“Nick, two bikes,” Maria says drawing her sidearm.  
“I see them.” Nick draws his own handgun.  
“Yes. Eliminate the threat Fury,” Pierce says before the line goes dead.  
“You heard the man,” Fury says.  
The street is mostly deserted of civilians, you pull the handbrake and yank the steering wheel hard, the SVU spins doing a 180, you change gears to reverse so you are still traveling in the same direction. Maria rolls down her window and shoots the rider of one of the bikes causing the bike to launch off a parked car into the air and clip the other bike on its way down.  
“Steady,” Fury says lining up his shot and takes out the other rider. “Get Agent Coulson on cleaning this mess up.”  
“Yes sir,” Maria answers.  
You turn the SVU back around, pulling on to the freeway. The dark vehicle is still following behind you as you push down on the accelerator.   
Fury fires at the vehicle, the bullets ricochet off the hood.  
You speed up avoiding the thankfully light civilian traffic. “Hold on,” you sign.  
Nick and Maria brace themselves. You slam on the brakes, the tires screeching against the road, the W.S.C. vehicle flies past you, you then begin to give chase. You roll your window down and shoot out the two back tires and send a round into the fuel tank.  
“That was a tracer,” Fury says as the fuel tank explodes sending the vehicle end over end.  
You slow down and come to a stop near the now upside down vehicle. “I’m going to check,” you signal just before leaving the vehicle with your sidearm drawn. You look over the other side of the vehicle and Maria has her gun drawn. She gives you a nod as you both carefully make your way to check for passengers.  
You hear a weak cough. As you approach the driver’s seat.  
“Hydra...” the agent says looking into your eyes.   
You crouch down keeping your gun aimed at him scanning for any possible threats. Taking his gun and slipping into an empty holster on your thigh, you then check his condition. Blood oozes from a gash on his forehead, his left forearm is bent at an unnatural angle and his legs are wedged under the collapsed steering column.  
You stand and signal to Maria that he is badly injured, she signals back the agent that side of the vehicle is dead. She comes around to the driver.  
“Who are you working for?” Maria demands.  
He coughs weakly again, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. “Pierce...” His voice faint as his eyelids begin to flutter.  
A pungent smell of chemicals hits the back of your throat. You grab the Deputy Director around the waist, and leap back from the vehicle, spinning mid-air to shield her with your body, just as something in the engine bay explodes and ignites the vehicle into a ball of flames.  
Fury's voice cuts through the ringing in your ears. “Hill? Seven?”  
Maria groans from underneath you.   
Carefully you lift yourself off her, grateful for your quick reflexes.  
“I’m okay, just winded,” Agent Hill coughs before sucking in a breath.  
“Seven?” Fury asks as he helps Maria to her feet.  
Your back feels warm, your tactical suit being fire resistant stopped any damages from the flames. The smell of singed hair wafts into your nostrils and must have hit Fury too.  
“Just singed hair?”  
You nod as you run your hand through your hair, the ends slightly shorter than before you exited the vehicle.  
“You’re like a damn Flerken with ninety-nine lives,” he says shaking his head in disbelief.  
You smirk behind your mask.  
“Did you get anything?” Fury asks as the three of you watch the World Security Council vehicle burn from safely back inside the SUV.  
“I asked him who he is working for, all he said was Pierce before the explosion,” the Deputy Director says.  
“Did he say anything to you?” Fury asks looking at you.  
You place your hands low “H.y.d.r.a,” you spell out.  
“Captain America defeated them in 1945,” Maria says turning to Fury.  
“Of course this goes without saying, this stays between the three of us until we get more information,” Fury says. “As far as anyone is concerned the driver was already dead when we got to him.”  
“Yes sir,” Maria answers.  
You nod in understanding.  
“And Seven…” Fury says with a change of tone. “I’m glad you’re here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the subscriptions, kudos and reads.


	4. Chapter 4

You pull your shoulders back as you leave your quarters, they are deep in the building’s basement. Walking with purpose, any personnel still in the hallways this late move out of your way. You get to the Black Widow's door and pause. ‘Should I knock or let myself in..?’ you think.   
The door slides open, the decision taken from you. The red head in the doorway smirks “What are people going to say you coming into my room so late?”  
You raise an eyebrow and shrug a shoulder. “I don’t think they would be game enough to say anything,” you sign.  
Natasha steps aside to let you in.  
You step into her room, it’s about the same size as yours, desk, double bed, wardrobe, and en suite. “I brought you popcorn,” you press a button on the electronic device as you hand her a small bag from behind your back.  
“I don’t understand the correlation between movies and popcorn,” Natasha says taking the bag. “But thank you.”  
You type into the device. “I don’t either,” it speaks for you.  
“You’re not going to talk all through the movie are you?” she quips.  
“No, I can sign if you prefer.” Your eyes show the matching smirk on your lips.  
“Either is fine,” she says her voice dropping an octave.  
You nod. “What are we watching?” You sign.  
“I thought something science fiction,” Natasha says sitting on the edge of her bed.   
You nod as you notice the TV on the wall and then look around for somewhere to sit.  
“I promise I won’t bite,” she says patting the bed next to her.  
You sit down an arm’s length from her. You don’t want to encroach on her personal space.   
She smirks as she scoots back on the bed to lean her back against the wall, placing a cushion behind herself. “Have you heard of WarGames?” she asks raising an eyebrow at you.  
You type into your device “Matthew Broderick?”  
“Yeah,” she says distractedly as she aims the remote at the screen. “You want some popcorn?”  
You turn and look over your shoulder at her shaking your head pointing to your mask. You made sure to have something to eat and drink before leaving your room. Some days you wish you could leave your mask off in the company of people you trust. Natasha isn’t on that short list, yet.  
Natasha shrugs, her red curls softly bouncing. “You can move back if it’s more comfortable?” she says softly, the movie selected on the screen.  
You lean forward and remove your boots, making sure to leave the knives hidden in them in the boot instead of strapped to your ankle. Then slide back to rest your back against the wall.  
“Comfortable?” Natasha asks before popping a piece of popcorn in her mouth.  
You nod “Thank you,” you sign.  
“We’ll have to compare ankle knives sometime,” she says with a smirk.  
Your eyes give away your own smirk. “Press play already,” you sign then point towards the TV.  
Natasha flicks a piece of popcorn at your head as she pushes play. “Maybe that’s why people have popcorn while watching movies,” she says crunching a piece.  
“Next time I’ll bring Skittles,” your device speaks as you flick the piece back at her. You’re sure not many people have seen the Black Widow like this, relaxed in an oversized tee-shirt, which might have once belonged to Clint, sweat pants and making light-hearted jokes. Here she is just Natasha. At the same time not many people have taken the time to be able to communicate with you and see past your notorious reputation.   
“So there will be a next time?” Natasha teases in a low-pitch and bumps your shoulder after a few minutes of you both watching the movie in silence.  
“Depends,” you sign.  
“On what?” She pops another piece of popcorn in her mouth.  
“Your choice of movie,” you sign with a tease.  
She smirks at you before her attention returns to the screen.

* * *

  
“What’s wrong?” Clint asks walking alongside Natasha.  
“Nothing,” Natasha says impassively.  
“Why are you heading to Fury’s office?”  
“Because I got a message to go there,” she says with a shrug.  
“Maybe you have a mission,” Hawkeye suggests.  
“Maybe…” she says softly.  
“What exactly did the message say?” He asks trying to help.  
“Agent Romanoff, Fury’s office A.S.A.P,” she answers. “It would be nice to be trusted around here.”  
“I trust you,” Clint says honestly.  
“I know.” Natasha gives him a small smile. “I don’t need supervision for every mission I go on,” she says as they get to the closed door.  
“Which is why you will be the supervision,” Fury’s voice comes from behind the agents.   
“Of who?” Natasha asks tilting her head slightly.  
Fury pushes open his office door “I believe you two have met…”  
Green eyes find your own. “Hey partner,” you sign.  
“I’ll talk to you later,” Clint says giving an encouraging smile before going back the way they came.  
“Sir?” Natasha says once she and the Director are in the room.  
“Will this be a problem Agent Romanoff?” Fury questions.  
“No sir,” she answers.  
“Good,” Fury takes a seat behind his desk.   
Natasha sits next to you and looks at you with a slightly furrowed brow.  
You shrug a shoulder. You can make an educated guess as to why your first mission after your ‘disappearance’ isn’t solo.  
“You two are on a very short list of the best operatives we have,” Fury begins “The Deputy Director and I are personally responsible for obtaining this information.” He hands you both a plain manila folder.  
You and Natasha open them in unison. Estonia, you read. ‘Lucky I have been keeping up my language skills’ you think to yourself.  
“We believe the base is a headquarters for a dangerous organisation,” Fury says after you have both scanned the documents handed to you. “An organisation that needs to be eradicated after we find out how far they have spread.”  
“How are we getting to this base? It is deep in the forest,” Natasha asks looking up from a grainy satellite image.  
Fury gaze moves to you before back to the Black Widow “HALO jump,”  
Natasha looks at you “Have you done it before?”  
You nod. Some of your missions have been too dangerous or remote for a land approach. A high altitude, low opening skydive is perfect for avoiding detection. “I can tandem if you haven’t jumped before,” your electronic device speaks for you. You don’t want to be rude by signing in a language the Director doesn’t know.  
She nods “Okay,” she says to you before turning to Fury. “Who is flying us there?”  
“One of the best pilots we have,” Fury answers.  
Natasha tilts her head slightly. You have noticed this habit she has when she is curious about something.  
“Agent Melinda May,” the Director says with a small smile.  
Melinda was supposed to be the pilot on your last mission but had come down with a severe head cold a few days before you were to leave.  
“You will report directly to Agent Hill, she has outlined the mission in your folder,” Fury says “But Agent Romanoff is the lead operative in the field.” He looks directly at you.   
“Understood,” your device speaks for you. You’re glad to finally be able to go on a mission. Natasha is more than competent so you have no issues with her being in charge. It will be interesting to see her work up close instead of through a sniper rifle scope.  
“Any further questions?” the Director asks.  
“When do we leave?” the Black Widow asks closing the folder.  
“You and Seven leave in 2 days,” Fury says. He then looks to you.  
“No questions.” You shake your head.  
“Good. Start preparing,” Fury says standing up.  
You and Natasha stand and leave his office.  
Natasha looks up at you and opens her mouth before closing it without saying anything.  
“What's first boss?” you sign.  
Her eyebrow subtly twitches “First we find somewhere to go over this information.”  
“I might know a place,” you sign before walking a little further down the corridor to an unmarked door, you punch a code into the keypad and the door opens with a click.  
“Is this your office?” Natasha asks as the lights flicker on.  
“No, I don’t have one.” You sit on the lounge chair.  
“Whose is it?” she asks sitting on the other end of the couch.  
“Agent Hill’s old office,” you sign. “No one has claimed it since her promotion.” You shrug.  
She looks around the room before back to you “How’s your Estonian?”  
“Almost as good as my Russian,” you reply before opening the manila folder.

* * *

  
“So you’re a paratrooper?” Natasha asks the following day as you give her a crash course.  
“Among other things,” you sign then finish doing up the parachute backpack. “Seemed a good skill to learn.”  
She smirks “Why?”  
“It hurts less to jump with a parachute than without,” you sign before shrugging.  
Natasha lets out a small laugh.  
You pick up an oxygen full face helmet “Try this.” You hold it out for her.  
“First lesson ‘how to put on a helmet’?” she says taking it.  
“No, first lesson being able to pull the ripcord while wearing everything on the off chance I’m unconscious or unable to,” you sign before showing her which handle to pull and pulling on your own helmet.


	5. Chapter 5

“We have your _friend_ little spider,” the headquarters’ lead agent taunts.

Your hands are handcuffed behind your back and you’re tied to a chair, two burly goons either side of you.

“Are you sure she hasn’t got you?” Natasha's voice comes from somewhere above you.

“Not from where I’m standing,” the agent says looking around for the source of her voice. His pistol aiming where he is looking.

You spot her and make eye contact. She gives you the signal she has the information you were tasked to extract.

“I’m tired of playing.” He pistol-whips you across the face. The butt of the gun hitting your mask. The gun shatters in his hand as sparks fly. “What the fuck?” He cries out clutching his hand. “Get that mask off her!”

One of the goons grabs you under the chin and attempts to remove your mask.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Natasha warns from behind the agent.

“Move!” The agent barks at the goon and grabs the mask himself.

You close your eyes tightly after locking eyes with Natasha. When you open them and see she has hers closed, you look up at the agent. He yanks the mask away from your face. A burst of blinding white light erupts in his direction. He doesn’t have the chance to make a sound before he is turned into a pile of ash. You turn your head left and right, turning both the goons into piles of ash too. ‘That’s for stomping on my foot, dick,’ you think to yourself. You slip the handcuffs easily before retrieving a knife from your boot, you cut the rope, setting yourself free.

“Can I open my eyes?” Natasha asks from behind a stack of wooden shipping crates.

“Yes Nat,” you answer her with your raspy voice, after you scoop up your mask. It’s covering your face before she emerges from hiding.

“When we get out of here you’re telling me what that was right?” Natasha asks as she steps around the 3 piles of ash to get behind you.

“Sure,” you answer her after your sure the mask is properly secured again. You decide to speak instead of signing, it will be easier as you make your way to safety. “That was a good plan,” you say, your voice a little muffled by the mask.

“You make a good hostage.” She shoots the first wave of henchmen that comes through the door.

“Didn’t tell them a thing.” You shoot the two individuals that were trying to be sneaky above you.

“Time to destroy this place,” Natasha says after shooting the first few henchmen you come across in the hallway.

You shoot the remaining henchmen as she reloads. “Last thing to do on our to-do list,” you say glancing behind you. You push Natasha down by the shoulder as a knife comes hurtling towards her, you catch it safely. She takes it from you and throws it back at the goon who threw it, hitting him in the chest.

“Thanks,” she says after throwing a Widow bite at him for good measure.

“Any plans on how?” You knockout a henchmen with a punch to the face, that came out of a nearby door.

The Black Widow quickly scans the area “Can you do…whatever that was… and make those explode?” she says pointing to the open door.

You spot a row of industrial gas cylinders inside the room. “Yeah, I can do that.”

“Just need an exit,” Agent Romanoff says opening another door with her gun aimed but the room is empty of people.

“I have an idea, but I’m not sure you’re going to like it,” you say as you reload.

Natasha raises an eyebrow at you.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” she answers without missing a beat.

“We’re going out that window.” You point to a nearby window.

She nods. “Okay, now what?”

“Get behind me and cover your eyes so you aren’t blinded. I’ll do the rest.”

You feel her press into your back “Do your thing,” her muffled voice says into your shoulder.

You pull your mask off, a flare of white bursts out and hits a gas cylinder. It explodes, setting off the one next to it in a domino affect. Your mask back in place, you turn around, grasp Natasha with one arm and sprint towards your escape. “Hold on,” you say shooting out the glass of the window. She quickly manoeuvres, wrapping her arms around your neck and wraps her legs around your hips.

“You going to buy me dinner first next time?” Natasha quips.

You glance down at her before leaping out of the window as a gas cylinder goes off like a rocket, straight through the building’s roof support beam. After letting go of a small tactical parachute attached to the back of your tact suit, you wrap your other arm around her. Her hot breath on your neck is causing a strange sensation but you ignore it. The parachute slows your descent enough you land on the ground on your feet without any injuries. “Ground floor,” you quip.

Natasha untangles from you, slipping your gun out of your thigh holster to shoot a henchmen attempting to flee. “Thank you.”

You unclip the parachute and move away from the building.

“Are you injured?” Natasha asks pointing to some blood on your tact suit.

You glance down. “That’s not mine.”

“Romanoff and Seven request extraction,” Natasha says into her wrist as you both watch what is left of the burning building crumble in on itself.

“Negative on the extraction, bad storm coming in. Proceed to safe house.” Agent Hill's voice comes through your comms.

“Roger ma’am,” Natasha answers.

The comms crackle before going silent.

“Fuck...” you groan.

Natasha looks up at you “Not only does she speak, she swears too.”

You roll your eyes “Come on, it’s this way.”

She nods and falls into step beside you.

“I can sing, if you’re lucky,” you say after a few minutes.

She smirks at this.

* * *

“If you need to stop for a rest or water say something,” you say after a while of trudging through the thick leaf litter on the forest floor.

“I’m okay,” Natasha says with a shrug.

“I am used to having a long hike to safe houses. I don’t expect others to keep up with me,” you say glancing at the redhead.

“You’re enhanced,” Natasha sates.

You shake your head. “Engineered, is what they called it.”

“Red Room had different names for things too.” She looks down.

You stop walking “No, I was biomedically engineered in a laboratory then grown in a test tube.” You’re not sure if you just blurted that out loud or thought it.

She had stopped walking a pace after you had. “What?” Her eyebrows furrow.

Yep, you definitely said that out loud. “I’ll show you.” You glance around, realising you are still in the middle of a forest. “When we aren’t in the open.”

She nods and you both start walking again but you can sense her thinking about something. “Was this a test?” she asks looking you in the eye.

“Was what a test?”

“Me being lead operative,” she states impassively.

“I was thinking the same thing.” When you first returned you were interrogated on your whereabouts and if you had turned double agent. Natasha tilts her head slightly. “If it was a test for me,” you clarify.

“You have worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. longer than most agents. Why do you need supervision from one of the newest agents?” she asks with a furrowed brow.

“Maybe that’s exactly why you were chosen,” you answer plainly.

“Maybe…”

“Nick’s methods can sometimes only make sense to him,” you say shrugging a shoulder.

“Nick?” She quirks an eyebrow.

“Director Fury,” you say. “I knew him before he was promoted.”

Natasha nods.

“That and you can keep up with me.” Your eyes giving away a smirk.

“Maybe it is _you_ that needs to keep up with me.” She smirks before increasing her pace.

* * *

“You don’t have to show me,” Natasha says after you’ve both swept the safe house for any bugs.

“Really?” you ask surprised.

“I get to hear your voice, well I’m assuming that’s you under there.” She smiles as she looks up at you.

“Yes it’s me,” you respond.

“Are you hungry?” She asks “Do you eat?”

“Yes, and yes.” You chuckle “I will have to take the mask off, obviously.”

“Oh... I can leave the room...”

“No, it’s okay,” you say “Unless it would make you uncomfortable.”

She shakes her head.

You gently take her hands and guide her in front of yourself.

“Do I need to close my eyes again?” She asks softly.

“No, that was only because I was going to act immediately,” you reply as your hands reach the mask.

She swallows and nods for you to continue.

“Wait...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the comments, subscriptions, kudos and reads.  
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter. :)


	6. Chapter 6

“Wait...” Natasha says as you go to unfasten your mask.

“I’m not going to hurt you Natasha,” you reassure with a soft scratchy voice.

“No, it’s-it’s not that.” She shakes her head. “How long since someone else has seen you?” she asks with a gentle voice. “That knew it was you,” she adds quickly. “And...”

“Lived?” you finish her sentence.

She gives a small nod.

“That’s cl---”

“Classified,” she finishes your sentence and gives a sad smile.

You look into her eyes as you think about her question. Your first answer was an automatic response. The particular S.H.I.E.L.D. agent has been retired for years now. Romanoff didn’t ask who, only how long. “A long time ago...” your voice comes out almost as a whisper.

Her eyes widen slightly. “Why me?” she asks softly.

“You...” You pause trying to find the right words. “Don’t treat me like I’m a monster...” You shrug a shoulder.

Natasha’s lips purse for a brief moment. “I don’t think you’re a monster,” she says looking you in the eye. “If anything you’re more like…” Her eyebrows furrow.

“A teammate?” you offer.

She shakes her head. “A friend.” She gives a small smile, which reaches her eyes.

“A friend,” you repeat. “I like that.”

“Good.”

“Ready?” Your hand rests on your mask.

She licks her lips and nods assuredly.

You search for any hesitation in her eyes, she lets you look. Sensing none, you slowly take the mask away from your face. You’re expecting her to recoil but to your surprise Natasha’s hand tentatively cups your jaw.

"Can’t be too bad...” you mumble, leaning into her touch.

She smiles. “Perfect.” A rare blush dusts her cheeks.

“Flatterer.” You return her smile.

Her gaze flicks over your face. “That burst of... light..?”

“Came from my mouth yes,” you answer, your voice sounding more croaky than before you removed the mask.

She nods as she continues to look over your face. Her focus lingers on an old scar across your Adam’s apple.

You open your mouth and a dull light begins emanating from the back of your throat.

“Is that why you wear the mask?” An empathetic look crosses her features as she looks between your mouth and eyes.

Natasha isn’t the first Red Room graduate you have met. You know they have been trained to mimic emotions but something about her stirs something inside your chest to want to share with her. You glance away from her intense gaze.

“You don’t have to tell me,” she says softly, taking a step back.

Your hand wraps around her wrist before you think “I...I...,” you stutter. You take a deep breath to focus. “S.H.I.E.L.D. wants me to wear it,” you say then let go of her wrist.

“Why?” she asks, her calloused fingertips ghosting across your jaw.

“Anonymity, because then I don’t exist...” you say softly.

Natasha's hand falls away from your jaw “Why don’t you talk?” Her eyebrow furrows.

“Same reason.” You decide it’s better to tell a half truth than risk your new friend's life.

“Okay,” she says softly, giving you a small smile. “We should start making something to eat.”

“Yeah...” you agree. “I’m going to have to tell Fury you know about my... ability but---”

“I didn’t see your face or hear your voice,” Natasha says cutting you off.

You nod, the weight of the mask feeling heavy in your palm. You glance down at it.

“You can leave it off if you like,” she says as she looks in a kitchen cupboard. “Do you prefer beans or corn?” She holds up two cans.

You stare at her for a moment. ‘This is what having a friend feels like...’ You think to yourself.

A perfectly manicured eyebrow twitches.

“I have some rice, I can make something with both if you like?” you answer as you move towards her.

The Widow looks you up and down “Where are you hiding rice?”

You smirk as you reach into a pocket on your thigh and pull out a pouch of rice. “I might even have some flavouring,” you say as your fingers reach into a small hidden pocket on your waistband.

“And I just hide weapons in my uniform,” she quips.

“You’re in luck.” You pull out the small package of stock powder. “Chicken okay?”

“As long as you are cooking, yes,” she teases.

* * *

You begin finding the things you need to make the dish in the sparsely stocked cupboards.

“Why do you carry rice?” Natasha asks as she hops up to sit on the bench.

“I started carrying it after a mission where I was left to fend for myself, in conditions like this actually,” your voice hoarse, before pointing to the window.

The wind was whipping against you before you made it to the safe house, it is now raining heavily with the odd crack and rumbling of thunder.

The redhead looks out the window and back to you “What did you do for food?” she asks after a few minutes of silence.

“Hmm?” You look up from the bubbling pot of rice.

“When you had to fend for yourself,” she says, gently swinging her legs.

“After the fourth day with complete radio silence, I had already made a shelter and was collecting the rain water,” you voice catches in your throat, you take a soothing gulp of water. “I caught a grouse on its nest. Cooked the eggs and the hen.”

“Can you use your…talent, to cook?” She tilts her head slightly.

You blink surprised by her question. No one has asked about the mundane things you can do with your abilities. You give a mischievous smirk when you have an idea. You pull the paper label off the tin of corn and hold it between you and the former assassin.

Her head tilts further as she intently watches you with a slightly furrowed brow.

You purse your lips like you are going to whistle as you feel the familiar tingling in the back of your throat. A small glimmering beam of light hits the paper, a spot ignites after a few seconds. You look up, your eyes meeting sparkling green eyes.

“That’s amazing,” Natasha breathes, taking the burning paper. She examines it until the flame gets too close to her fingertips, she dumps it into the sink. She catches you watching her and raises an eyebrow.

“Not enlightening…?” you deadpan with a blank expression.

A small jet of air comes out her nose involuntarily. “That’s a terrible pun.” She shoves your shoulder. “I thought it was very illuminating,” she says with a hint of a smirk.

You have a matching smirk start to spread across your features. “That makes me _delighted_.”

You both let out into small laugh at the same time.

“Shit! The rice,” you exclaim, pulling the pot off the heat before it burns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comments, subscriptions, kudos and reads.  
> Sorry this chapter took longer than expected to be posted.   
> I hope you enjoy it. :)


	7. Chapter 7

“You take the bigger bed,” you offer as you stand just inside the doorway of the lone bedroom in the safe house.

“As if you had a choice,” she teases as she moves past you.

You chuckle as you sit down on the smaller bed.

“You better not snore,” Natasha says as she pulls down the covers.

“Or what?” you ask as you pull down the zip on your tact suit to your waist.

You notice Natasha’s gaze following your hand before moving back to your face. “Or you’ll get hit with a pillow.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?” You raise an eyebrow.

“I haven’t decided,” she says sitting to remove her boots.

“I haven’t had any complaints yet,” you quip. You stand and turn to remove your arms from the sleeves, revealing your sports bra and bare skin to your waist. You notice Natasha has stopped making any noises so glance over your shoulder.

She is looking over your back, her mouth slightly agape.

“They probably look worse than they are,” you say with a soft scratchy voice. You forget about the scars you can’t see.

Natasha doesn’t say anything.

You slowly turn around to face her, revealing some more newer and old scars littering your skin. You feel more exposed than when you removed your mask but you let her look.

Her gaze focuses on a newer scar across your collarbone, her jaw shifts from one side to the other.

“Hot knife.” Your index finger traces the path the blade took across your skin.

“It looks recent,” she states.

You nod. “They’re dead.”

The corner of her lip twitches into a smirk.

You think back to when it happened, you listened to your own skin hissing in protest as you maintained direct eye contact with the son-of-a-bitch. Her voice draws your attention out of your thoughts.

“How did you get so many scars?” She begins unzipping her tact suit.

“Getting information out of people,” you answer and hold her gaze. “They tend to talk more if you don’t.”

“You’re not by the book?” She continues to unzip her suit to her waist.

“Never read the book.” You shrug as you maintain eye contact. You’re not blind, Natasha is absolutely stunning but you’re not going to be another person who ogles the Black Widow.

Her eyebrow twitches as she slips her arms out of her suit.

In your peripheral vision you see she is wearing a black bra. “Do you have enough ammunition for your gun?” you ask slipping your own out of its holster, and begin to check it.

“Do you still have a full clip?” she asks. You hear the dull thud of her gun hitting the bed followed by a metallic sound.

You glance at her bed as another set of knives lands on it. You look up at the Black Widow's face, deliberately avoiding looking at her scantily clad chest. “Yeah, hang on.” You peel your tact suit down past your hips, exposing your underwear and two clips of ammunition strapped to the top of one thigh, a butterfly knife on the other. When you look back at her you catch her staring, your lip curls into a small smirk as you wordlessly place a clip of ammunition on her bed.

“And here I thought you were happy to see me,” Natasha quips as she picks up the clip, a smirk slowly begins spreading across her features.

She has been playfully flirting with you for a while now, you decide to beat her at her own game. “I left _that_ in my other tact suit,” you deepen your raspy voice as your words drip with suggestiveness. Your smirk widens when her eyes widen ever so slightly.

She quickly recovers “Pity...”

You raise an eyebrow in question as you place your gun under your pillow.

“I’m going to have to reduce your marks for not being fully prepared for the mission,” she remarks.

“I am sure I could improvise,” you counter before ducking a flying pillow.

* * *

“Any continent you haven’t visited?” Natasha asks as you lay in bed.

“No, but I have always wanted to go to New Zealand,” you answer staring at the ceiling, your hands under your head. “What about you?” You turn your head towards her.

She rolls over to face you. “You have been to Antarctica?”

You roll onto your side. “Yeah, you haven’t?”

“It’s the only continent I haven’t been,” she answers. “What is it like?”

You both are aware of the unspoken agreement not to discuss missions, most of yours are highly classified or completely off the record anyway. No doubt the Black Widow had off the record assignments too. Talking about the country or place was different. “Antarctica is really beautiful,” you say, a fond smile forming across your features. “It’s like the Arctic, only colder, minus polar bears and trees. And there are penguins of various variety.”

“Sounds nice,” she says sleepily.

“It is,” you say softly.

* * *

You are awoken by sheets rustling next to you. They continue to get louder. You silently slip out of your own bed and go to the foot of Natasha's. She lashes out at an invisible enemy before stilling. “Are you going to watch me all night?” her voice cuts through the darkness.

“No, I didn’t want to be stabbed,” you state plainly.

She lifts her head and you open your mouth to create a dull glow. The hilt of one of her knives is sticking out of the indentation in your pillow. “Sor---”

“It’s okay,” you cut her apology off. “Are you going to be able to sleep?” you ask softly.

She flops back onto the mattress.

“Can’t exactly go to the training room.” You sit down on the end of your bed. Neither of you mentioning why you were both in the training room in the middle of the night. You silently held the boxing bag steady for her while she wore herself out.

She lets out a faint sob and shivers.

You wait to see what she wants, unsure if she will even ask you.

“Can...can you please...?” She slightly lifts the blanket in invitation.

You stand and carefully slip into the bed behind her. Bringing your pillow and gun with you.

Natasha rolls over to face you.

“Want a nightlight?” A gentle glow comes out your nostrils.

“That’s gross Семь,” she weakly chuckles as she shoves you.

You turn the glow off as you chuckle. You smile to yourself that she called you seven in Russian.

“You’re not going to incinerate me in your sleep?” she asks after you both quiet.

“I haven’t incinerated the bed since I was a child, thank you.” You cross your arms over your chest.

You both start laughing at what you said.

“Good because it’s cold and I don’t want to send you back to your own bed.” She scoots closer to you. “I’m Russian and you’re warmer than me,” she says when she is close.

“If you promise not to break my arms, I’ll wrap them around you if you like?” You say softly, she doesn’t react, 'Damn it you overstepped' you internally chastise yourself. “Or---or not...”

She finds your hand and drapes your arm over herself. You gently pull her towards yourself so your bodies are flush.

A song begins to play in your head once you have both stopped adjusting. “Bayu, Bayushki, Bayu...” you sing softly.

“You know the Russian lullaby?” Natasha says quietly.

“Uh, yeah...” you whisper. You feel a little silly singing a lullaby to the Black Widow of all people.

“Where did you learn it?” she asks over her shoulder.

“It was played it to me as a child,” you answer plainly. “I can stop if---”

“No. Keep going,” she whispers, cutting you off. “But don’t let the old grey wolf get me...” She snuggles further into you.

“I promise, you’re tucked in tight so he won’t,” you whisper your reply.

“Good...” she says sleepily.

“Ne lozhisya na krayu...” you sing the next line to the haunting lullaby softly.

Halfway through the song Natasha's breathing evens out and her body slackens. You continue singing, each line getting softer and softer, the last line barley a whisper.

It’s the best night's sleep either of you have had in a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed this chapter.
> 
> -Семь, Russian for 7. Pronounced, Sem'  
> -Lullaby name, Bayu Bayushki Bayyu. I recommend listening to it, it is hauntingly beautiful.
> 
> Thank you for all the comments, subscriptions, kudos and reads. I really appreciate it. :)


	8. Chapter 8

“Agent Romanoff, a word,” the Director's voice cuts through the noise in the hanger after the Quinjet door opens.

You give a small nod towards her before beginning to make your way through the hanger.

“Sir?” Natasha asks when she’s closer.

“Follow me,” Fury says turning. The redhead trails a step behind.

“You better not have gotten _my_ asset in trouble,” Coulson’s voice warns from beside you.

You stop walking and turn towards him. When he got his own team his attitude changed and not for the better.

He aggressively points his finger at you. “I needed her for a mission but she wasn’t available because of you.”

You blink impassively at him as you heft your bag further onto your shoulder.

He scoffs. “You don’t even care.”

Your bag makes a loud thud as it hits the ground next to your feet.

“I know all about you.” He steps half a step closer, his finger now inches from your face. You’re sure the only reason he’s behaving in this way is there are witnesses. One-on-one he is as timid as a deer. “You better not have compromised her.”

“That’s a good way to lose an appendage or an eye,” Maria Hill's voice comes from somewhere behind him.

You quirk an eyebrow at him. ‘Go on, try me...’ you think to yourself.

“This one needs to be kept on a tighter leash,” he says taking a step back.

Your hand darts out, grabbing him by his tie, you abruptly pull him towards yourself.

“Wha--?” His words are cut off by a loud crash, as pile of debris land where he had been standing.

You let go of his tie, pick up your bag and step around the debris.

“My bad. I’m okay...” a sheepish voice comes through the dust cloud.

Coulson yanks at his tie to loosen it.

“Agent Coulson, my office. Now!” Fury's voice booms through the building's PA system.

You flip him the bird over your shoulder when you get to Agent Hill.

“I don’t think he needs my help with that gesture,” Maria says with a smirk when she sees his ears turning red when he spots it.

* * *

“How’d the mission go?” Clint asks Natasha with a smile.

“Successful, no injuries,” Natasha replies.

“That’s great.” He nods. “Something’s changed...”

“Yeah, I did my first HALO jump,” she quips. “You get a good view. Even with the helmet on.”

Clint squints his eyes while looking at her. “No, there’s something else,” he says rubbing his chin. “Spill.”

The corner of the redhead's lip twitches into a small smirk. “And...” She draws out the word. “It may be official.”

“Ha!” Clint says with a grin. “Congratulations are in order.”

Natasha's smirk turns into a small smile.

* * *

You land hit after hit in quick succession on the wooden martial arts practice dummy. Once you’ve finished your attack sequence, you start over again, pushing yourself to do it faster.

“Can’t sleep?” Agent 13 asks from behind you.

You finish the current sequence and turn to look at her once you’re done.

“The mission?” she asks.

You shake your head as you wipe your brow. “After. Here,” you sign to her.

“Something happen?” she asks, crossing her arms. You raise an eyebrow at her. “I not long got back from mine.”

You nod. “You successful?” you sign.

“Of course.” The blonde smiles.

“Coulson is a dick,” you sign an exaggerated gesture to emphasise the last word.

“Yeah, we all know that,” she agrees.

You let out a deep breath and look up at the ceiling. Maybe you should have let him get crushed earlier.

“Word is Romanoff now has level 6 clearance,” she says after a moment of silence.

You look back at her.

“Whatever he said or did, doesn’t matter now.”

“Thank you,” you sign.

Sharon gives a small shrug. “Don’t stay up too late,” she says firmly but with kindness behind it, before turning to leave.

You stare at the wooden dummy, any harder and it might burst into flames, spinning around you splinter off one of the limbs with your forearm. You turn and look straight into the surveillance camera before leaving the training room.

* * *

You let the steaming hot water cascade over your tired shoulders and back. ‘Natasha is an agent, not asset. And she isn’t a possession’ your thoughts swirl. “Fuck Coulson,” your hoarse voice cracks. ‘Probably shouldn’t have used it so much and signed instead.’ You think as you let out a sigh. You turn, letting the heat of the water soothe your larynx and chest.

The steam swirling around you dips sharply for a moment before slowly raising back to its previous height.

You open the door of your ensuite, a cloud of steam follows you as you step into your room. A certain redhead rakes her gaze over you as she flips your butterfly knife with practiced ease from your bed.

“You shower with that on?” she asks casually.

You grasp the corner of the towel draped around your neck and dab a droplet of water before it drips into your eye. The towel loosely wrapped around your hips slips down a fraction. You don’t miss green eyes darting down before returning to your face. “No. I knew I had company,” you sign.

Natasha’s eyebrow quirks “You always greet company wearing two towels and your mask?”

“The only people who can get through the door are Fury, Hill and you,” you sign.

“You would see him like this?” She stops flipping the knife.

“Fury already left for the day, which leaves Hill and you.” Your eyes giving away a smirk.

Natasha's lip twitches into a small smirk and she resumes flipping the knife around.

You move to your wardrobe and grab out a tee-shirt. Keeping your back to the bed, you pull the towel around your neck away and pull the tee-shirt on.

“The training room was empty when I went past,” she says impassively.

You turn from the wardrobe when you have found a pair of shorts you can sleep in. Wondering what she’s going to say.

“I overheard Agent Coulson is on records duty in filing,” she continues with the same impassivity.

You pull on the shorts under the towel “Who is your new handler?” you sign once you remove the towel now that you’re dressed.

“Agent Hand, I haven’t met her yet,” Natasha says placing your knife on the bedside table.

You nod “She is tough but highly competent,” you sign. “You will have all the information she can get before she sends you in.”

“Thanks,” Natasha says with a small nod. You can see the gears turning behind her eyes.

You nod before moving to hang up the towels.

“Is she your handler?” she asks after a moment, tilting her head slightly.

You pause.

“Classified?” She raises an eyebrow.

You shake your head. “She has been, in the past,” you sign. “Fury or Hill are.” With Natasha’s new clearance level it’s not an issue to disclose. Which reminds you...

The Black Widow's lips pull down for a brief moment.

You open a cupboard and pull out two coffee mugs and a bottle of alcohol.

“You have good taste,” Natasha says recognising the label on the vodka. She nods when you gesture if she would like a drink too.

You pour some vodka into a mug. “Life is too short to drink bad vodka,” your hoarse voice cracks at the end of the sentence. You remove your mask.

“Now I know why you have been signing,” she says accepting the mug you hand her.

You raise your mug towards the Black Widow “Поздравляю с повышением,” you toast to congratulate the former assassin. You both drain the contents of the mugs at the same time. The alcohol warming your throat and chest on its way down.

“Спасибо за помощь,” Natasha thanks you.

“Again?” you ask, holding up the bottle.

“Sure, one more,” Natasha replies holding out her mug.

* * *

Natasha makes no move to return to her own quarters, not that it bothers you at all. You go to your wardrobe and pull out a tee-shirt, you hold it out for the redhead.

“What’s this for?” Her eyebrows furrow.

“I’m assuming you don’t want to sleep in your clothes,” your voice croaks out.

Her lips pull together.

“There’s a spare toothbrush in the top drawer,” you say as she takes the offered clothing.

“You offer all the ladies your spare toothbrush?” she flirts as she stands.

You smirk “Only the ladies who appreciate good vodka.”

She smiles before closing the ensuite door. When she emerges you see the tee-shirt is long enough to cover her to the tops of her thighs.

You give a small smile before going into your ensuite. You secure your mask after brushing your teeth, looking at yourself in the small mirror before you exit.

She’s already tucked into your bed. You switch off the lights before climbing in next to her.

She rolls over to face you “Is that comfortable to sleep in?” she asks softly.

You turn your head towards her “I’m used to it. Feels strange without it here,” you answer softly, your hoarse voice echoing off the mask.

She hums in response. “It took me a while to get used to sleeping with both hands under the blanket,” she admits at a whisper.

You roll onto your side to face her, staying silent.

“Red room instructors would handcuff us to the bed each night,” she whispers.

“I would make shadow puppets to entertain myself,” you admit quietly.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you whisper before rolling onto your back. You remove your mask, placing it on your chest. The familiar tingling sensation begins in your throat and a dull beam of light begins coming from your mouth. You position your hands in front of it making a shape.

“A dog?” she guesses looking at the shape of the shadow on the ceiling.

“Yep,” you answer before changing your hands to a different shape.

“Easy, a bird,” she says.

You move your hands into a different shape.

“Man with a hat.”

You try something more complex this time.

“Goat,” she says before yawning.

You stop the light and secure your mask “Goodnight,” you whisper.

“Night Семь...” she whispers sleepily.

The only evidence that Natasha stayed the night is the lingering scent of her floral, with a musky fragrance, shampoo on the pillow next to you. It’s almost intoxicating. A thought occurs to you, 'She took my tee-shirt.' You smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Поздравляю с повышением- meaning, congratulations on your promotion. Pronounced, Pozdravlyayu s povysheniyem.
> 
> -Спасибо за помощь- meaning, thanks for your help. Pronounced, spasibo za pomoshch.
> 
> -Семь- meaning, seven. Pronounced, sem'
> 
> Thank you for all the comments, subscriptions, kudos and reads. It is really appreciated.  
> Happy New Year! :)  
> xAGx


	9. Chapter 9

You’re sitting at a workstation in the back corner of the weapons department, working on a prototype idea you had when you notice a figure approaching in a reflective surface.

“You’re a hard person to find,” Melinda May says when she’s almost at your bench.

You make an adjustment before putting your tools down. “And yet, you found me,” you sign.

“Read this,” Agent May says as she hands you a file.

You raise an eyebrow at her as you take it. _Barbara 'Bobbi' Morse, degree biology, S.H.I.E.L.D. academy of operations,_ you read.

“I am thinking of scouting her,” Melinda says as you continue to look over the impressive file.

“If you don’t someone else will,” you sign before handing the file back.

“I need to see her in action first,” May says.

“Go watch at the academy,” you sign.

“You think I didn’t already think of that?” she deadpans.

You shrug.

“I don’t want her to know I’m observing. I want to know what she’s like without the pressure,” May explains.

“I know how to get in and out undetected,” you sign.

Melinda's lip twitches into a small smirk.

“You already knew that,” you sign then shake your head. “When do you want to go?”

* * *

A few weeks later, you approach Agent May and a tall blonde woman in the training room. The blonde meets your gaze.

“Agent Morse, this is Seven,”

You give a nod in acknowledgement.

“Agent Morse knows American Sign Language,” Melinda says.

You nod. “What’s your weapon?” you sign to the blonde.

“My weapon?” the new Agent looks to May.

Agent May smirks “Seven can tell a lot about a person by their weapon.”

You gesture to the equipment cupboard.

Bobbi walks over and looks through all the different types of weapons. She picks out a pair of battle staves, twirling them quickly. “What’s your weapon?” she asks when she returns to the sparing mats.

“Myself,” you sign before gesturing the new agent begin to spar you.

“Don’t hit the mask Morse,” May says watching.

“Or what?” Bobbi asks twirling the batons before launching at you.

“Or your batons will break,” May says looking down at the blonde who is now flat on her back on the mats.

* * *

_Kirby’s_ you read the name of the mission location Fury just handed you and see a picture of a scrawny man attached with a paperclip to the file. You look up at the Director.

“I have heard rumours that General Thaddeus Ross has started a project to recreate the Super Soldier Serum,” Fury states.

You nod in acknowledgement.

“The rumours also say he has succeeded.” Nick has a sip of his coffee.

Your eyebrows furrow and you point at the picture before signing “He does not look like a Super-Soldier.”

“The intel is sketchy but I believe the source.” He rests his elbows on his desk and interlocks his fingers in front of his face.

You nod.

“I want to meet this Bruce Banner in person,” Fury says calmly. “You have the most experience with enhanced individuals.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“You’re going to be my backup,” Fury says before giving a small smile.

* * *

You scan the Triskelion dining room, spotting the redhead sitting with Hawkeye. You approach the pair.

“Hi Seven,” Clint says cheerfully.

You give him a nod of acknowledgement.

Natasha raises an eyebrow.

“Can you please interpret for me?” you sign.

“Sure,” Natasha says “She wants me to interpret for her,” she explains to Clint.

“I’ve been working on something I think will help you in the field,” you sign and Natasha speaks for you.

“For me?” he says with a furrowed brow.

You nod and reach into a pocket on your tact suit, pulling out a small box. You hand it to the archer.

He opens the box and pulls out a metal arrowhead, he examines it before looking at you. “What does it do?”

“It sends an electrical pulse on impact,” you sign.

Barton nods “That would take out a computer quickly,”

“She wants you to test it,” Natasha says to Clint. “We’re not busy now,” she says looking up at you.

“I’m still eating,” Clint protests, shoveling a forkful of food into his mouth for emphasis.

Natasha pushes out the seat opposite her with her foot.

You sit down on the seat.

“You hungry?” Clint asks you before shoveling more food into his face.

You raise an eyebrow at him and sign to Natasha.

Natasha smirks at you before sipping her coffee.

Hawkeye looks between you both “Going to share?”

“Seven said she lost her appetite,” Natasha states.

“Ha ha,” he says rolling his eyes.

* * *

You watch the Director and his drinking companion through your rifle scope as you listen to the conversation in the sports bar via your comms.

“How, how did you injure your eye?” Banner asks before having a swig of his beer.

“During the war,” Fury answers.

“Which one?” Bruce’s eyebrows furrow.

Fury lets out a small chuckle “Pick one,”

Banner nods.

“Come on Beckham,” Fury goads. “Greatest player my ass,” he says pointing at a TV screen.

The scrawny man continues to sip his drink, subtly glancing around the bar when he thinks Fury isn’t paying attention to him.

“Hey... I’m going to get going...” Banner says with an apologetic smile.

“Already? Well it was nice meeting you pal,” Fury says.

In all your time knowing Nick Fury you can count on one hand the number of times you have heard him call someone a pal.

“Now,” Fury says into his jacket collar.

Right on cue Agent Johnson steps back into the target's path “Hey…” She smiles once she turns around. “Well now, you can bump into me anytime. What’s your name cutie?” she flirts.

“Umm…David.” Bruce stammers. “Look I’m sorry but I--” his words are cut off.

“Hey!” Agent Peterson barks, right on his cue. “You like makin’ time with another guy’s girl, fella?”

“Hey, I didn’t…”

Peterson grabs Banner by the collar.

“Please, you shouldn’t grab me…” Bruce warns timidly.

Your finger moves to rest on the trigger of your gun.

“Or what?” the agent moves a second hand to grab the scrawny man’s collar.

“P-please…” Bruce stutters “I’m warning you don’t…” he begs.

‘Some Super-Soldier’ you think as you continue to observe and listen to the scene unfolding.

“You’re warning me?” Peterson’s large arm muscles flex as he begins to lift Banner by his jacket.

“Hey! There is no need for…” Fury starts his cue.

Peterson drops Bruce and punches the Director in the face, knocking the dark skinned man to the ground “Don’t try and be a hero pal.”

“Son-of-a-bitch,” Fury mutters under his breath.

“I… warned you…I…” Bruce doubles over as his body begins to contort and swell.

“What’s happening to him?” Agent Johnson shrieks.

“Oh my God!” another patron exclaims.

Banner throws his head back as his limbs extend well past a natural size. His clothes shred to ribbons. He grows in height as his muscles bulge bigger than anything a Mr Universe competitor could dream of. His skin begins almost glowing in a hue of green.

If you weren’t watching this unfolding with your own eyes you would think it was a tall tale. Definitely one of the most extreme enhancements you have witnessed.

“HULK!” he lets out a guttural roar before punching Peterson clean across the room. The agent only coming to stop when he splats against the wall like a bug on a windshield. “SMASH!” He brings a giant fist down on the bar, splintering it into matchsticks.

Agent Johnson shields herself from the debris with her arms. She hurriedly makes her way towards the other agent.

Patrons scatter away from the giant angry man as he continues to destroy everything in his path.

“Peterson?” Johnson's panicked voice comes through your comms. “Peterson!” she tries again.

“Status,” Fury demands into the comms.

This seems to snap the agent out of her panic. “He’s unresponsive but has a pulse.”

The hulking green man hoists a jukebox above his head.

Fury steps in front of him “No. I don’t think you want to be doing that,” he states calmly.

You aim at the bridge of the large green nose, if you’re going to have to take him out that seems like the weakest place on his massive body to do so.

The large green man seems to pause in his rampaging.

“At least I don’t think the man I just met. The man inside you wants to do that,” Fury continues in the same calm voice. “He seemed like a decent enough guy who wouldn’t want to hurt these people.”

Banner roars loudly in Fury’s face, glass and bottles shatter all around him.

Fury remains unmoved.

You take a deep breath, steadying yourself to make a clean shot if Banner physically attacks.

Banner flings the jukebox at the exit door, shoves Nick out of his way and runs out into the street.

“Pursue, from a distance,” Fury wheezes in your comms.

You click dot, dot, dash, into your earpiece. The letter U for understood in Morse code. You take off running after the huge green man, leaping across from one rooftop to another.

He seems to be moving towards the outskirts of the city.

You sway as you come to an abrupt halt on the edge of a building. It is a multistorey drop to the next building. You take a few steps back for a run up and jump off the roof. You pull at a ripcord on your tact suit, nothing happens. You yank at it, again nothing. The roof of the other building is approaching faster than you would like. You brace yourself for impact as you yank on that damn cord, you feel it finally give, releasing the tactical parachute attached to your back. It unfurls quickly and slows your descent enough for a softer impact on landing.

You hear a scream further down the street. “Help!”

You grasp a street light pole, using it like a fire pole to get to the ground quickly and take off in the direction the scream came from.

The giant man is standing at a crossroads looking back and forth.

You slip into the shadows as you approach cautiously.

There is a woman holding a small child one direction, the other you know leads away from the city.

You close your eyes briefly and focus, when you open them they have a soft purple glow, you aim your gaze at the street light heading away from the civilians. A flash of purple light hits the light bulb, it makes a small pop and the light is extinguished. This gets the green man's attention and he takes off running in that direction.

“Thank you...” the woman calls out.

You blink away the glow, and remain in the shadows.

“I won't tell anyone what happened,” she says taking a cautious step in your direction. “I just wanted to thank you, for saving my child.”

You step into the dimmed light, your profile revealed to the lady. You give a slow nod before disappearing back into the darkness.

* * *

“Somebody better tell me why I have two agents in hospital and I have cracked ribs,” Fury says eyeballing everyone in the room.

Agent Peterson has a severe concussion and his jaw is wired shut. Fury said to you privately it was karma for chipping his tooth when he punched him. Agent Johnson has lacerations to her arms from the debris, the hospital stay is more a precaution than anything else.

You stand with your hands behind your back, off to the side of the Director in the meeting room.

Phil Coulson looks at you and his mouth opens.

“Don’t go there,” Fury warns, pointing a finger at Agent Coulson before he can speak. “It was your team’s intel that let us down in the field.”

“I did try to warn you--”

“Not. Good. Enough,” Fury loudly enunciates each word.

“We will be better prepared to deal with the Hulk next time,” Coulson says.

Fury’s mouth narrows “No.”

“No?” Agent Coulson looks like a puppy that had his toy taken away.

“No, our mission is to find a Super-Solider,” Fury says. “Bruce Banner is Thunderbolt Ross’s problem.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter.  
> Thank you for all the comments, subscriptions, kudos and reads.  
> I really appreciate it. :)


	10. Chapter 10

“Did you hear about the Cavalry?” An agent asks another as they’re walking through the building. “Took out an entire compound by herself.”

“Who?” the agent says, his face scrunching.

“There was so much blood,” a third agent adds.

“You were there?” the first agent asks.

He nods. “I don’t how she took out that many people...”

“Who is the Cavalry?”

“Agent May, she is still in the medical wing,” the first agent says.

You change direction and pick up your pace. You had just got back from your own mission hunting down an enhanced individual, so missed her return. She is on the Welcome Wagon team with Coulson, they’re trying to persuade gifted individuals to join S.H.I.E.L.D.

The nurse who looks up when you throw open the door to the medical wing and gasps. You finger spell M.A.Y.

“She is that way,” the nurse points. “Room 5.”

You sign “Thank you.” You haven’t really spent any time in this wing so are a little lost as you look for the room. On the rare occasions you are treated, it is in your quarters or a lab deep in the basement by specialists.

The door is ajar but you softly knock on the doorframe.

“Go away,” Agent May's voice says monotone.

You open the door anyway.

“I said go...” her voice fading on the tip of her tongue when she locks eyes with you.

You look over her, noticing her leg bandaged and stitches in her forehead. You point to her chart.

“Sure, go ahead. Saves me speaking,” she says before resting back into her pillow.

You read over her injuries and see the psychiatrist report. Skimming over it you know she’s changed by whatever happened. Placing it back where you got it from you look back at her.

She continues to stare out the window, the usual twinkle of mischief in her eyes has dulled.

* * *

You find Natasha after the visit in the gun range. You hand her a piece of paper. _We need to talk,_ written on it.

Natasha opens the folded paper then looks up at you. “I didn’t know we were a couple,” she quips with a smirk when she sees your eyes widen slightly. “Sure, your place or mine?”

“Wait? What’s happening?” Clint asks from the booth next to her.

“Sorry, that’s classified,” Natasha says.

“You know I have higher clearance than you?” he replies.

You slowly sign to him in American Sign Language. Natasha told you that he has begun to learn ASL. After your arrowhead was a success, he wanted to be able to collaborate with you easier.

“Girl...” Clint interprets. “Talk...”

You nod.

Natasha smirks.

“Girl talk? What does that even mean?” Barton asks with a furrowed brow.

You respond by tapping on your mask where your nose is.

“Told you it’s classified,” Natasha says as you begin to make your way out.

* * *

You lock your quarter’s door once inside. The only people getting through are Fury or Hill. The other person who could get through is already in the room.

“Did you hear about May?” you ask from behind your mask.

“Yeah, Manama Bahrain.” Natasha nods. “I visited and left her a book.”

“She’s not okay,” you say fidgeting with your hands.

Natasha's lips pull together.

“There wasn’t supposed to be a telepath there,” you say as you begin to pace.

“How do you know that there was one there?” she asks, tilting her head slightly.

You stop pacing and look into green eyes “I read the report, the agents being taken and held hostage in the building so quickly, along with the memory loss of all of them. It’s the only logical conclusion.”

“Makes sense.” She nods.

“She’s an exceptional agent,” you say. “I’ve never seen her so rattled.”

“What do you want to do?”

You run a hand through your hair “I am not so good with helping with...”

Natasha raises an eyebrow.

“With emotions. And, stuff,” you say as you waft your hand vaguely.

“You helped me,” she admits softly. Her turning up in your quarters after a rough mission has become almost a routine.

“I didn’t do anything,” you say letting out a breath. The noise echoing on the mask.

“Sometimes just being there is enough,” she says with a shrug. “I’m sure you will think of something.”

You nod. “Thank you,”

“I didn’t do anything,” she says with a wink.

* * *

When May wakes up and sees you sitting near the end of her hospital bed she lets out a huff of air. “Haven’t you got something more important to do?”

“This is important,” you sign.

She stares straight through your head.

“Come on, I know you can stand. We’re leaving this room,” you sign as you stand up.

“I am not going anywhere,” she replies rolling on to her side away from you.

Desperate times call for drastic measures. “You can come willingly or not. Your choice,” your raspy voice sounding muffled by your mask.

Melinda rolls over slowly, wide-eyed. “Did you just talk?”

“Yes, you have 5 seconds to make your choice. Come willingly or I’m carrying you out of here, bridal style,” you speak then hold up your hand with all your fingers splayed and begin dropping them.

“Alright, alright. I am up.” She stands wobbly so you offer a strong arm which she holds onto. “Where are we going?”

You hand her a set of workout clothes. “Put these on,” you sign.

She looks to the door and sees a nurse approaching. “You only going to speak to me when no one else is around to witness it?” she asks hushed as she takes the clothes.

You nod.

“You’re an asshole,” she huffs.

Once she is dressed you slowly make your way to an elevator. You press a button for the roof of the building.

“You realise taking a crazy person to the roof isn’t a good idea,” May says monotone.

“If you jump, I jump,” you sign and shrug. Once the doors open you point to an area that has a few plants in pots around it.

“Now what?” she huffs.

“Now we’re going to do Tai Chi,” you say and move into position.

“Tai Chi?” Agent May looks at you like you have two heads.

“Just try,” you say as you begin slowly moving.

“I am not talking about it,” Melinda states firmly.

“No talking in Tai Chi,” you respond before taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly as you do a pose.

“Fine.” She begins to move with you.

You continue to slowly move through the poses in sync with Melinda. Her eyes seem less dull when you finish.

“Thank you,” she says softly.

You nod.

“You’re still an asshole,” she adds.

“I know,” you say with a wink.

* * *

The next morning before dawn Natasha is already waiting on the roof.

“Heard this is a good spot to see the sunrise,” she says when you and Melinda get closer.

“Is this some exclusive club?” Melinda asks.

“You could say that,” you speak.

The three of you share glances in silence.

“What have I done...?” Agent May's voice trembles.

“What you had to do,” Natasha says gently. “I’m not going to lie and say that makes it easier to deal with but there is no judgement here.”

You nod in agreement. “Look,” you say pointing to the sun peeking over the horizon.

The three of you begin moving slowly as you watch the sunrise.

“I am not going back in the field,” Melinda says after you’re done.

“If that’s what you want to do,” you speak.

“I hear Agent Hill needs some help with administration,” Natasha states.

The raven haired agent gives a small nod. “I hate The Cavalry name people keep whispering,” Agent May says after a few moments of silence.

You and Natasha share a glance.

“We can fix that,” Natasha says.

Melinda seems to stand a little taller “Thanks.”

* * *

“Seven, wait up,” a man calls out from behind you.

You turn around to face him.

“Did she say anything to you?” Andrew asks with a pained expression.

You look up at Melinda's husband and shake your head.

He lets out a breath and looks away.

You reach out and touch his arm to get his attention. When he looks at you, you point to his wristwatch.

“Time...” He nods in understanding. “Thanks.”

You give a nod before continuing on your way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter.  
> Thank you for all the comments, subscriptions, kudos and reads. It is really appreciated. :)


	11. Chapter 11

“Careful they bite,” Natasha teases.

You look up from the small metal disk in your palm.

The Black Widow smirks as she makes her way to her wardrobe after her shower.

You hold her gaze then turn your back to the superspy when she begins to remove her towel. “What powers these?” you ask as you continue to examine the Widow bite. You noticed it poking out of the discarded tact suit on the floor and decided to take a closer look while you were waiting.

“Did you come over here just to ask me about them?” her voice sounds muffled by fabric.

“No, I wanted to watch this,” you answer dropping a DVD on the bed behind yourself. You hear some more rustling.

“Alien,” she says plopping down next to you.

You hold up a bag of skittles.

“How can I say no?” she flirts with a smirk.

The door suddenly opens. “Nat, are you....?” Clint's question dies on the tip of his tongue. “Hey Seven.” He looks between the two of you.

“We’re watching Alien, want to join?” Natasha asks.

“I’m not interrupting?” Clint asks coming into the room.

You shake your head and move over on the bed to make more room.

“Ready?” she asks before pushing play.

* * *

“I’m going to open these,” Natasha says holding up the bag of Skittles. A knife appears in her hand and she slices through the plastic with ease.

You pull a bandana out of a pocket and wrap it over your mask, once it is tied off behind your head you take off the Adamantium mask underneath. The Black Widow's quarters doesn’t have the same security on the door as yours, so you figured out a way to be able to enjoy some snacks while watching movies together.

Clint waits until you place the metal mask on your thigh. “You want some?” he asks holding out the bag Natasha passed him.

You take some Skittles, slip your hand under the bandana mask and drop them into your mouth. You notice Clint watching you out the corner of your eye. You type into your electronic device “Were you expecting a chameleon tongue?”

Natasha laughs.

“I umm, I have never thought about it,” Clint says taking a handful and dropping them into his mouth.

Your eyes give away a smirk as you grab some more out of the bag.

* * *

“Do you think aliens are out there?” Clint asks when the credits begin rolling.

“Classified,” your electronic voice answers.

“No way...” Clint says his eyes wide.

Natasha's eyebrow raises slowly.

You look between the pair. “You do know Area 51 is a S.H.I.E.L.D. base?” your device speaks for you.

Natasha looks at Clint.

“Have you ever been there?” Clint asks moving forward. “Have you _seen_ an alien?”

You nod.

“What do they look like?”

“Let her answer one question before you ask the next one,” the redhead says bumping his shoulder.

You glance between the pair before typing into your device. “It was short, had a round head with two big eyes peering out from under its helmet.”

The archer's jaw drops.

The only noticeable reaction from Natasha is a slight crease in between her eyebrows.

“What else?” Clint asks, his eyes still wide.

“It wore a red shirt and a green skirt and was very angry,” your device continues.

Natasha’s lip twitches into a small smirk.

It takes Hawkeye a few more seconds. “His name is Marvin the Martian?” he deadpans.

Your eyes give away a smile.

“Ha ha,” he says sarcastically.

Natasha softly chuckles.

“Depends on the species to what they look like,” your device says. “Usually humanoid. They could be green, blue, or even a pink colour.” You shrug. Probably not a good idea to spill that Fury's cat is no regular Earth cat, so you keep that information to yourself.

“I’m going to ask Coulson if there are any missions based out of there,” Clint says.

“Watch out for Facehuggers,” Natasha teases. “You don’t want to end up with a Chestburster.”

“They’re not real,” he says shaking his head. “Are they...?”

* * *

You’re not sure exactly when it started, the subtle contact when she is near you. A tap on the elbow as she passes behind you, brush across your shoulder in a meeting room, squeeze of your leg when you both figure out the plot twist in a movie, curling into your side while asleep.

Thump.

“You still with me?” Natasha asks looking down at you, as you’re flat out on the training mats.

You suck in a breath. ‘Damn it, not the time to be getting distracted' you think to yourself.

She smirks as an eyebrow raises.

You spin on your back and sweep her off her feet with your legs. Quickly pinning her to the mat with your body.

The Black Widow squirms under you, trying to get leverage. One of her arms gets free, she brings her elbow down on your shoulder blade. It causes your whole arm to tingle with pins and needles.

She takes advantage by getting more of her body out from under you. Hitting your shoulder blade again before you roll away and spring to your feet.

She smirks as you begin circling each other. “I’m picking the next movie,” she taunts before kicking at your head.

You block her kick with your forearm, trapping it and punch at her body.

“You two are weird,” Agent May's monotone voice comes from the edge of the mat. “Flip a coin for it.”

You both stop mid action and look at Melinda.

“Are we doing Tai Chi or not?” Melinda asks crossing her arms.

You let go of the Black Widow’s leg as she lets go of your fist.

“Morning,” Natasha says as she moves near Agent May.

You give her a nod before moving into position.

“Morning,” Melinda says with a faint trace of a smile.

* * *

You catch Natasha and Clint as they’re in the parking garage.

“Семь hey.” The redhead gives a small smile. “Are you leaving for the holidays too?”

You shake your head “Not yet,” you sign. “I have something for you.” You reach into one of the pockets in your tact suit and pull out a small long gift box.

“You didn’t have to, thank you” Natasha says taking the box. “I didn’t get you anything.” Her eyebrows pull together and her mouth twists.

You can see the confliction on her face and decide to help. “It’s okay, really,” you sign, your eyes giving away a small smile.

She looks to open it. You reach out and touch her hand. “Open it Christmas Day.”

“Okay, I won’t open it.” She nods.

“Open what?” Clint asks moving towards you.

“Seven gave me this,” she says holding up the box for him to see.

He looks at the box with a furrowed brow. “Is it a necklace?”

“You will have to wait,” Natasha interprets for you.

You reach into the same pocket and pull out a flat and wider gift box. You hold it out to the archer.

“This for me?” Barton asks surprised.

You nod. “Happy holidays,” you sign in ASL.

“Thanks Seven,” he says holding out a hand.

You shake his hand. Then sign.

“Safe. Travel,” Clint interprets for you.

You nod.

“The lessons are paying off,” Natasha says, an eyebrow raises a little.

Clint breaks into a smile.

“I will let you get going,” you sign to Natasha.

She nods and turns to the archer. “Let’s go before traffic gets bad.”

“Good idea,” Clint says and moves around to the driver’s side of the vehicle. “See you Seven.” He gives a wave before climbing into the driver’s seat.

Natasha reaches out and squeezes your hand before opening her door and climbing in.

You give a small wave as the vehicle begins to move. ‘I hope she likes it' you think as you make your way back to your quarters.

* * *

“Where does she go for Christmas?” Natasha asks Clint when he pulls into traffic.

“I have no idea,” Clint answers. “I thought you guys were friends?”

“We are,” Natasha says with a hint of a smile, her fingertips ghosting over the gift box.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Семь- meaning seven. Pronounced, sem'
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the chapter.   
> Better late than never.  
> Thank you for all the comments, subscriptions, kudos and reads. I really appreciate it. :)


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